


A Wintery New Years

by BrokenKestral



Category: Chronicles of Narnia - All Media Types, Chronicles of Narnia - C. S. Lewis
Genre: Gen, Hope, New Years, Night, Snow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-11 06:20:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28466694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrokenKestral/pseuds/BrokenKestral
Summary: It snows, and in the snow are tracks leading Lucy to something she longs to find.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	A Wintery New Years

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired because we had a 10” snowfall in less than 24 hours this week, and I had to wake up at 5:30 to begin shoveling it. In the half hour before I went outside - it was beautiful. 
> 
> Happy New Year everyone!

Lucy woke. 

She sat up, her eyes wide open as she looked around, but she could not tell what had woken her. Cair Paravel was quiet, with not even a breeze tapping the panes of her window. 

She got up, shivering as her feet touched the cold floor. Wrapping her favorite sunshine-yellow blanket around her shoulders, she moved to the window. The night sky was covered with clouds so thick not even the moon could break through, and only the reflection of the fires still burning in Cair Paravel lightened the dark outside. Lucy saw the orange light shining on the light-colored ground, and she blinked.

The ground was white. Fully white, except where the fire reflected. Snow! 

A deep layer of the snow covered the courtyard, the Christmas trees they had not moved yet, even the windowsill just below her waist. She breathed deep, her eyes wide, caught by the beauty of that white, unsoiled world.

Everything lay untouched—except in the corner of the courtyard. There, walking by the wall, something had left tracks. Large tracks, deeply pressed, as if the body had weighed as much as a Centaur. And the tracks—

Lucy remembered the shape; she knew them for a Lion’s.

A very, very large Lion’s.

Her heart began singing with joy, with hope, for no Lions lived at the Cair, and oh, it might be Aslan! And perhaps—perhaps He was still outside?

She scrambled for her boots as quietly as she could, pulling on thick socks, a sweater, and a cloak. Holding her boots in one hand, she quietly slipped out of her door. 

The hallways were quiet, as if all the world was deeply asleep, all but her and the Lion. She ran as lightly as she could down the dark corridors, dancing through open doors like a ghost, visible only for a moment. She reached the small door leading to the courtyard’s east side, right beneath her window. Bending over, with one swift move she pulled one boot on and laced it, pushing aside the fluttering hem of her nightgown. She set it down and laced up the other, before taking a deep breath and pulling open the door.

The world—the quiet, pure-white world—stood before her, even while her lungs ached in the cold air. She stepped out, ready to run and be warm and _find Him,_ and pulled the door shut after her. 

One step into snow, and she began laughing when it came up over the top of her boots. How could something be so cold and so soft at the same time? She set her foot down firmly, testing for ice underneath the white blanket, and smiled when she found her footing firm. One breath more and she ran forward, jumping to keep her feet above the snow mid-step, always heading towards the footprints at the edge.

They were a Lion’s, and they were the largest she had seen. She crouched by one, reaching out her hand and laying it in the imprint. Her fingers barely covered half, the tips not reaching the deep prints of the Lion’s toes. Following the prints with her eyes, she saw the footsteps walk towards the wall. Would she find Him at the end of them?

She followed the path He’d left, stepping in His footprints and finding the snow packed firm, the four paws stepping close enough together she did not have to jump. They went around the corner, and her eyes darted forward when she reached it, searching, but she saw nothing but the magical whiteness. He was not in the next courtyard.

But the footsteps still went forward, and her eyes fell to them again. She walked faster, searching—longing. They led her to a staircase, the large paws leaving half-prints on the small stairs, and then pacing the walkway running above one of the gardens. She ran up, her numb hand on the chilling metal rail, and there, there, _there_ , looking out over the sea, was Aslan.

“Aslan!” and she was running forward, stumbling, catching herself and wrapping her cold hands in His warm, warm mane. She could feel His low laugh rumble through His body. “Aslan!”

“Good evening, dear one,” He answered. 

She lifted her head, looking out where He looked, the sea with its crashing waves, the small stretch of sand where the water melted the snow, and then the white, white world. 

Moments later, He turned, His large head swinging slowly to let her turn with Him, and together they took in the white garden below them, the grey walls of Cair Paravel that grew higher and higher, and the white window sills that made it all lovely. 

“They’re all sleeping,” Lucy whispered, seeing so many of the windows dark. 

“Many sleep through the turning of the year.”

Lucy looked up at the dark sky and shivered. Aslan turned His head and breathed on her. With the sweet, wild smell came warmth that chased the chill from every finger and the tip of her nose, and her heart sang. 

“Will this be a good year?” she asked, thinking suddenly of the past year. She’d been kidnapped, taken to a Fell camp. Months later Edmund had come home nearly dead from battle. Then there was the Dwarfish divide, the fire set in the Dryads’ nursery, the flooding of the Northern Valley… 

“It is not for you to know the future, dear heart, only to trust in this present moment.”

Lucy thought on that, on the hard year, the pain, the fear, and the way so many days had seemed too much to bear. But somehow they _had_ been born, and now, today—with Aslan at her side, and His beautiful world shining even under a dark sky, it was easy to trust.

“I will be with you always, dear heart, even to the ends of all worlds,” rang the deep voice in her ears.

* * *

“Lucy! Lucy, wake up! It snowed!” Lucy’s eyes opened, and she blinked. Susan stood above her, shaking her shoulder, and Peter and Edmund stood there in the doorway, dressed in their sweaters and cloaks, and the window was _bright_ -

“Lucy! Get up, slowpoke!” Edmund called, and Lucy sat up. 

“It snowed!” Peter called. “We’re all going outside! Here, here’s your coat!” 

He handed it to her, Edmund adding her boots a moment later, and Lucy scrambled into them, waking up as she raced her siblings outside. But she stopped in the doorway, seeing the same white world in the bright sunshine, blinding and just as beautiful.

“Peter! Susan! Lucy! Come look at this!” Lucy looked towards Edmund, towards the corner where he was standing, and smiled. Susan took her hand and together they went over. Peter and Edmund were kneeling, their knees growing wet, as they placed their hands in large Lion footprints.

“He was here,” Edmund said softly.

“During the night,” Peter agreed, standing up. He followed the footprints, followed them to the next courtyard, up the stairs, and to where they vanished on the walkway. 

“He came to visit, do you think?” Edmund asked, and Lucy took his hand at the longing in his voice.

“He came to wish us a happy New Year,” she said. “And to remind me He will be with us in the new one.”

“Always,” Peter said from behind her, and his arms came around her, warm and strong, for in following the Lion Peter had become a little like Him.. 

“Happy New Year,” Susan murmured, stepping up beside the other three. Together the Four watched the Cair, standing where Aslan had stood, and remembering. 


End file.
